


Carry Me Further Yet

by BluebirdWrites



Series: Pantheon [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Angst, Hinata as Eros, Hinata is dumb and has no idea how feelings work, I feel like I should apologize to my HS English teacher, Inspired by Daphne and Apollo (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), M/M, Sad Ending, They're greek gods so every decision is a terrible one, Tsukishima as Apollo, attempts at symbolism, he's not bad tho I swear on my life, no rlly I'm an icy bitch and I almost cried writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27017014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluebirdWrites/pseuds/BluebirdWrites
Summary: So Tsukishima thinks he has no idea how to use his bow, does he?Well, he's about to learn how devastating a hit from love's arrow can be.(When the acerbic god of the sun insults the quick-tempered god of love, the payback that follows will echo far beyond Olympus.)
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi, crumb of Ennotana
Series: Pantheon [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971793
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	Carry Me Further Yet

**Author's Note:**

> Hey yall! I present to you this angst-fest that's been languishing in my drafts for a century. What is it about tsukkiyama that gets the angst gears turning in my head? Idk really. 
> 
> I did change the existing myth of Apollo and Daphne a titch, partially so I could wring a longer story out of it, but also partially because I Do Not Vibe with the amount of noncon in the original greek myths. However, most of the other stories in this collection will be largely unchanged from the myths they're taken from unless I need to put in scenes for the sake of story/relationship development. Being a writer is fun like that!

He’s especially restless that day, and perhaps that’s why things transpire the way they do.

As he strolls along the banks of the mighty olympiad river with a slew of hunting trophies slung over his shoulder, Tsukishima Kei, god of music, archery, and the sun, finds himself itching for some discord to break the silence surrounding him. When he spies Hinata showing off his bow for a group of fawning naiads, he knows he’s found his target. 

“Well, would you look at that,” he calls, loudly enough that the nymphs startle, “It appears that the shrimp has finally found a bow that’s his size -though I wasn’t aware they made actual weapons for children.”

The red-haired love god flusters when the comment makes his audience titter mockingly. He blunders over to the taller god and thrusts his finger forward in anger. “And what do you want, stingyshima?” 

Tsukishima smirks, “Well I’d like for someone to take that bow away from you and give it to someone who actually knows how to use it before you take someone’s eye out with all your flailing,”

One of the naiads giggles at that, his brown eyes shining with mirth as he attempts to muffle his laughter behind a freckled hand. The sight makes something in Tsukishima’s chest burn. 

Hinata witnesses this with the beginnings of a revenge plan stirring in his head. So Tsukishima thinks he doesn’t know how to use his bow, does he? 

Well, he’s about to find out just how devastating a hit from the god of love’s arrow can be. 

* * *

Several balmy summer days pass before Tsukishima returns to those woods, Hinata’s threat having escaped his mind completely. A looming feeling of frustration spoils his fun that day, and he reaches the riverbank without having fired a single arrow. As he strolls along the bank, he spots the same naiad from his run-in with Hinata weaving flowers into a wreath. The pretty white and yellow blooms of the chrysanthemums he holds ruffle slightly in the breeze that blows around them.

It’s there, as the sour god of archery watches a naiad sing softly to himself while twisting the stems of two flowers together, that things are at peace for the final time.

From his perch in the heavens, Hinata Shoyo, the messenger of love, fires two golden-tipped arrows. They hit their marks down to the inch.

The naiad gasps and drops the wreath, and Tsukishima’s hand goes to his chest to soothe the sudden ache above his heart. It’s then that their eyes meet and the world slows to a stop around the two. At that moment, nothing matters more to either of them than what is just out of reach. Slowly, Tsukishima steps forward, as though moving any faster than his creeping pace would cause the vision before him to vanish like the mirage of an oasis disappears in front of a dying man stranded in a vast desert. 

“You-” Tsukishima breathes, “What is your name?”

“Yamaguchi, my lord,” the nymph -no, Yamaguchi- replies, “Yamaguchi Tadashi,”

The name sounds like the loveliest of music to his ears, made all the more wonderful by the beautiful creature speaking. In a burst of clarity out of character with the fog that’s been swimming in his head all day, Tsukishima knows that he has to keep Yamaguchi at his side for all eternity. 

He drops to his knees in front of the nymph. “Come home with me.”

Minutely, the naiad nods as he’s swept off to the heavens. Unknown to the happy couple, however, there’s a third arrow waiting for them in Hinata’s quiver, this time tipped with something far less lustrous than gold.

* * *

The other Olympians are at a loss for words when Tsukishima arrives with a naiad in tow. From the eagle-eyed Shimizu to the party animals like Tanaka, it seems that everyone is in disbelief that someone as dour and aimless as Tsukishima would ever indulge in a lover - much less find someone important enough to bring to the realm of the gods with him. As Tsukishima entertains this Yamaguchi by antagonizing Bokuto, several of the other gods whisper to each other curiously.

“I never thought he’d be the type to have an affair,” Sugawara, the god of marriage, hisses to the love god Oikawa. “Something seems odd.”

“Oh don’t be such a spoilsport, Suga-san!” The god of love laughs in reply. “After all, your husband wasn’t the settling down type either once upon a time.”

“Perhaps…” Sugawara hums vaguely, though he still doesn’t sound convinced. He leaves behind Oikawa -now impulsively flirting with a satyr- and seeks out the warmth of the palace hearth. Hopefully, Michimiya hadn’t heard the news yet, and it was always easier to focus after a cup of tea and a conversation with the goddess of the hearth. 

Yamaguchi hiccups around his fourth goblet of nectar -even nature spirits are no match for the tolerance of a god- and laughs heartily when one of Tsukishima’s barbed comments causes Bokuto to puff out indignantly like a blowfish. “Good one, Tsukki,” he slurs.

Ignoring Bokuto, who’s now muttering pointedly about how sea urchins make better company than sun gods, Tsukishima turns his gaze to the drunken naiad beside him. “Shut up, Yamaguchi.”

Some of the nearby revelers gasp. Surely this would cause a scene, wouldn’t it? But to their surprise, Yamaguchi just giggles through a clumsy apology, and the two leave; their eyes making it clear that they’re the only two beings who exist at that moment. 

Oikawa had stopped his flirting when his husband had gotten too close, and so he had a perfect view of the happy couple as they stumbled off to bed. He knows what false love looks like: the kind that clouds senses and dulls the light behind a person’s eyes. It’s obvious from the lack of recognition in their gazes that there’s something behind the scenes meddling with the minds of Tsukishima and his lover, but that’s not what surprises him. 

No, what gives Oikawa pause is that there’s something painfully real shining on their faces.

* * *

They’re blissfully happy for days until even the last holdovers had ceased to doubt that their love was true. However, the sun’s bright light is all too capable of blinding one’s eyes to the dangers ahead. 

One night, while they lie in bed after another day spent wrapped in each other's arms, Tsukishima has an epiphany. “Marry me,” he says bluntly.

Yamaguchi, who’d been drawing the draperies shut, turns to look at him with a brow arched questioningly. “Pardon?”

“Marry me,” Tsukishima repeats, an uncharacteristic enthusiasm shining on his face. “Tomorrow, I’ll ask for a blessing and we’ll be wed.” 

His lover says nothing, which is apparently enough for the god of the sun. Content, Tsukishima presses a kiss to the naiad’s forehead and falls into a peaceful sleep. Yamaguchi however, does not sleep that night. Once he’s sure that Tsukishima is asleep, he creeps out of the room and goes to seek solace by the fountain bubbling merrily in the courtyard. 

Staring at the sparkling pool of water and the fish that dart to and fro beneath the surface, it almost feels like he’s back home by the river. Or is this his home now that he’s going to be married tomorrow? As he watches a koi fish stick its head out of the water in hopes that he has food for it, doubt gnaws at his heart. 

Naiads are no strangers to the antics of the gods. While Yamaguchi himself was always too plain to catch the eyes of any of the Olympians who appear on the banks hoping to woo one of the river god Shimada’s many children until now, many of his siblings have gone off with them -only to return heartbroken, pregnant or both. It was a simple fact that while the gods may entertain themselves with mortals and nymphs, entertainment is all they will ever want. What had driven Tsukishima to not only take him as a lover but decide to marry him as well?

His thoughts are disrupted by the sound of footfall and muffled voices nearby. As he conceals himself behind a wall, he can hear the god Oikawa scolding one of his servants. 

“What did you do?” Oikawa hisses to a bright-haired boy with a bow slung across his back. Yamaguchi recognizes him as the god who’d been showing off his bow on the day he met Tsukishima. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” The servant replies as his wings flutter in aggravation. “I do a lot of things!” 

“Tsukishima’s new pet, the stringy little naiad. You’re behind it, aren’t you?” 

Yamaguchi barely muffles a horrified gasp. His apprehension was surely just typical cold feet, there wasn’t any actual weight to his doubts. 

_ Were there? _

He strains to catch Hinata’s response. “Okay yeah, that was me. I just wanted to get back at that stuck-up jerk!” 

At this point, Yamaguchi can’t bear to hear another second. So all this time, he’d been a game piece in some scheme for revenge. No god would love him; least of all one as adored as Tsukishima was. The gods wouldn’t debase themselves to marry their mortal lovers, nor the countless number of his siblings who fade to nothing more than foam caught in the river’s endless currents after their hearts broke and their affairs were ended. Had he really expected that he’d be any different? Of course, it was a love spell. He’d been naive to hope that what Tsukishima had felt for him was anything close to _real_. 

Feeling sick, he rises to his feet and stumbles out of the garden. There’s no particular destination in mind, he just knows he has to escape from the gods and their endless games. 

* * *

“Love isn’t a tool to use in your petty revenge. You need to undo this before it’s too late.”

Hinata sighs remorsefully. “I know. They both look so happy that I wish I hadn’t interfered at all.”

He reaches into his quiver, searching for the lead-tipped arrow that will remove Yamaguchi’s feelings for Tsukishima. Dread settles in his heart when he comes up empty. 

“What?” 

“The arrow-” Hinata whispers fearfully. “-It’s gone.”

“You used it on someone else?” Oikawa asks quizzically. Even to the patron god of love himself, the arrows of love’s messenger are a mystery. 

“No,” Hinata replies weakly. “My arrows will only ever hit the targets they’re designed for. The only way for an arrow to disappear is if-”

He sinks to the ground. Guilt and grief smother his usually joyful grin like storm clouds covering the sun before a hurricane. 

“-Is if they’ve fallen out of love before it’s been fired.”

* * *

Tsukishima rises the next morning alone. In the past, this would have been no concern of his, but now having Yamaguchi leave his side for even a second causes a terrible ache. He’s in a daze as he searches the halls of Olympus in search of his love. 

The first person he asks is his sister. As the charioteer of the moon, Hitoka surely would have seen what spirited Yamaguchi away before he woke. She just shakes her head sadly, something he doesn’t dare identify glimmering in her watery brown eyes. Increasingly desperate, he seeks out Shimizu, then Sugawara, then the king of the gods, Sawamura himself. None of them can tell him what he wants to hear, and the ache he feels progresses until it’s practically driven him mad. 

He spies Tanaka leaning against a pillar. Wine sloshes out of his cup as he smiles flirtatiously at his lover, who sighs fondly and attempts to remove the cup from his husband’s grasp. 

“Really, it’s too early in the morning for you to be drinking,” Ennoshita scolds as he pries the goblet away and attempts to hold it out of reach. 

“Darling,” Tanaka laughs heartily. “I’m the god of wine and revelry, can you blame me for having a little fun?” 

“I can when you attempt to kiss a goat you thought was me,” Ennoshita replies. 

“Only once!” Tanaka retorts. He dips Ennoshita into what looks like a kiss, but the wine god’s lover nimbly dodges his husband’s attempt to snatch the goblet back and sees Tsukishima watching them. 

“My lord,” he greets the god of the sun politely. “Is something wrong?” 

“Have either of you seen Yamaguchi?” Tsukishima demands. The two look at him curiously. 

“The naiad you’ve been so taken with?” Ennoshita asks. When Tsukishima nods fervently, he gives the same regretful shake of his head that Hitoka, Shimizu, and Sawamura before him had. “I’m afraid not.”

“I saw him!” Tanaka interrupts, finally stealing his cup back from Ennoshita while he’s distracted. “Bout two hours ago when I was on my way back from another ritual. He was alone over by the Olympiad river.” 

Without another word, Tsukishima vanishes. Ennoshita raises a brow in his husband’s direction. “I thought you said you’d been out with Nishinoya last night?” 

“You see-” Tanaka begins, but he’s mercifully interrupted by Hinata’s arrival. 

He likes Hinata, the kid knew how to have a good time. But from the stricken look on his face, the god of love isn’t here for a party. “Have either of you seen Tsukishima?” Hinata demands fervently. 

When he too, vanishes, Ennoshita swipes the overflowing goblet of wine again and takes a long, drawn-out swig. “What happened to it being too early?” Tanaka teases. 

“There’s trouble coming,” Ennoshita replies gravely. “Might as well brace for the fallout now.” 

* * *

The meadow is filled with wildflowers that sway lazily in the breeze. Watching them dance had always made Yamaguchi feel at peace when he was young, but now the only thing he feels is the agonizingly dull pain of heartbreak. His father looks on with grief weighing down his body. 

“Are you sure that this is what you want, Tadashi?” The river god Shimada asks sombrely. 

The young naiad doesn’t turn away from the hyacinths that bloom a vibrant gold. “I’m sure, father,” he whispers. 

“Then it is done. Goodbye, my child.” Shimada disappears back into the babbling waters of the river Olympiad. Yamaguchi feels terrible for his father, who’s already watched helplessly as so many of his other children wasted into nothingness when their hearts were broken by the gods seeking amusement. Being the lover of a god -no matter how short the affair or how artificial the feelings were- had consequences, the nymphs who faded as a result of their sorrow were the lucky ones, really. He prays silently that someone will comfort the old river god after he’s gone. 

Tears well in his eyes, but his focus never strays from the hyacinths. He has no choice, Tsukishima would never admit to being made a fool of, especially not by a god like Hinata. He’d insist on keeping up the charade: they’d be married, maintain an illusion of happiness for eternity, and then make each other miserable once the spell inevitably wore off. He doesn’t want to hunt down the people who fall into his husband’s bed, and he doesn’t want to be abandoned once he’s no longer useful. All he wants is to be loved, and not as a result of someone else's interference.

It’s better this way, he attempts to convince himself as he brushes away another wave of tears. Tsukishima can be free to seek other lovers without being tied down to some stringy little river spirit he married because of a practical joke. He’ll be happier then. But he won’t be happy until something is done to break the curse he’s been blinded by. 

“Yamaguchi!” 

It can’t be, and yet it is. Tsukishima has found him again. He stands, with his last remaining threads of composure held tightly to his heart, and flees from the riverbank. 

Tsukishima curses and sprints after him. Yamaguchi knows full well that he cannot outrun a god, so he instead changes course and flees to the edge of a nearby cliff.

Tsukishima freezes in his tracks when he sees how close to falling the naiad is. “Yamaguchi,” he calls, fear lacing his voice. “Please, come back.” 

“I can’t,” Yamaguchi replies his voice deadly calm. “I won’t let this go any further.” 

“Let what go further?” Tsukishima demands. “Please, just get away from the edge and this will all be over.” 

“No, it _won’t_!” Yamaguchi bursts, all appearance of composure gone. “How haven’t you realized? This isn’t real! We were put under a spell so someone else could make a fool of you!” 

“What are you talking about? Yamaguchi, enough with this.”

“It’s true!” He howls desperately. “I overheard Hinata admit he put you under a spell last night! This isn’t really you, why don’t you understand?” 

“I understand!” Tsukishima begs. “You’re confused and upset, and we’ll talk about it later. Please just get away from there before you fall.” 

Yamaguchi shakes his head minutely. “I’m sorry, Tsukki.” 

“Just tell me what you mean!” Tsukishima snaps. “I’ve had enough of these riddles!” 

“I had to break the love spell somehow, so I went to my father for help. Once this is over, you’ll be able to forget me and move on instead of being tied down to a joke forever,” Yamaguchi explains quietly. He extends his hand towards Tsukishima, who lets out a strangled sob when he sees that his palm is covered in rough tree bark. 

Without any further caution, Tsukishima embraces his lover, wishing desperately that he could do something to fix this. It’s useless, he can't 

Yamaguchi smiles sadly and reaches to cup the sun god’s face. “Even if it wasn’t real, I’m glad I had a chance to love you, Kei,” he says lovingly. The god of the sun takes his hand under his own, and it’s comfortingly warm; like sunshine on a spring day. 

Tsukishima kisses the inside of his palm. “I love you, Tadashi.” 

But Tadashi is already gone. Where the naiad had stood not seconds ago was a laurel tree, one branch extended away from the others. It ends where his hand closes around a fragile-looking leaf. 

Tsukishima wants to howl with grief or let his sorrow raze Olympus itself. He wants the whole world to know the love he felt for Tadashi. 

Instead, he feels nothing. 

* * *

Hinata arrives a few minutes later. To his horror, Yamaguchi is long gone. Instead, he sees Tsukishima knelt in the grass underneath a laurel tree, twisting the leaves into a crown that shimmers like gold. “May I touch you?” Hinata asks quietly. “To remove the pain you feel?”

The sun god’s eyes betray no emotion. “Go ahead, do what you must. It won’t change a damn thing.”

Hinata presses his hand to Tsukishima’s arm, searching for the leaden knot of grief he expects to find, a poisonous after-effect of love’s arrows gone wrong. It’s not there. 

Tsukishima glares venomously at him. “Well?” He growls. “What’s taking you so long? Shouldn’t it be gone by now?” 

“I’m trying,” Hinata replies. He presses his hand closer to the sun god’s heart and almost recoils at what he finds there:

_Love._

Real love; the kind that glows with a soothing warmth as it encompasses every corner of Tsukishima’s being. The gentle glow is rooted firmly in place and stubbornly refusing to move, not put there by any arrow in Hinata’s quiver.

Pulling away, Hinata looks remorsefully in Tsukishima’s direction. “I’m sorry,” he says in a feeble whisper. “You loved him too.”

The sun is impossible to describe, for it burns with such a powerful light that to gaze at it for even a second too long burns the vision from a healthy man’s eyes. As Tsukishima set the laurel wreath upon his head and rose to his feet, he burned so brilliantly that no one, not even his fellow gods, dared to look in his direction for fear that they’d be reduced to ash. The universe itself braced for the fury of a god who mourned for his lover. 

But he is silent: resignation etched onto his immortal features as he returns to Olympus for good. 

**Author's Note:**

> "Wait, blue did you really make Tsukishima a sun god when part of his name literally means moon?" Yes, yes I did <3 
> 
> Find me on tumblr @bluebird-writes-things if you want to scream about Haikyuu with me!


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